During my current round of DietBet games, I’m committing to 30 days of checking in-Good or Ugly

I woke early today to run to work and …. talked myself out of it!  My hip was a little irritated from yesterday’s 8 mile run so I decided it was best to run home after work this afternoon if it calms down.  So, since I was up….at 3:45 am…I decided I’d enjoy the quiet and sit by myself with a cup of coffee. 

After a bit of tidying up I sat at the table, lit a candle and saw my weight loss-healthy journey journal sitting there, right where I left it the last time I cracked its cover in July.  Attached to the inside cover was my motivation picture of a fit women running in a tutu. 

Gladly, I smiled, I’ve done that! 

I flipped to the back cover where I had pasted my work out training plans for the first few organized runs I did and the one plan I finished, but lost interest in coloring in the boxes as the “work” was completed.

In the middle pages were my personal hoorahs, kicks in the butt and general meanderings. 

So many thoughts of success and “I-need-to…” went through my head.

o    I need to create a new training workout plan and color in those boxes to really process my growth.

o    I need to plan, shop and prep my food for the next week

  • Which leads to do I really want to go more whole food or Vegan again?

o    I need to journal again. But when? Before work? Do I really want to get up any earlier?

o    I need to go to work

Ok back to the subject, I love food all food but what is best for my body, my performance, hypothyroidism, kidney disease, arthritis, > 50 life. I’ve read real food is medicine, pills only deal with the symptoms and that we should follow the premise that if the “food” comes from a plant (boxed and processed!) we should avoid it, but if it is from a plant, eat it. I can’t seem to grasp an eating lifestyle I know I can do forever after.  I just love food and needed to make a public confession. I feel the extra roll of love around my mid-section is my scarlet letter for all to see my guilt, related to my affair with food.